


Garrison High| The Space Between Words

by with_wit_and_perfect_timing



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Boys Kissing, Chef Hunk (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Human Allura (Voltron), Human Coran (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Military, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Romantic Fluff, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Surprise Kissing, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/with_wit_and_perfect_timing/pseuds/with_wit_and_perfect_timing
Summary: Welcome to Garrison High: the Academy for the best and the brightest. The perfect environment for any student with a shining academic or extracurricular record - or rich parents. An encouraging and healthy atmosphere where teenagers are pushed to their absolute potential.But underneath the perfect exterior, looms something much darker, and not every student is who they seem to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter, long term fic.

            Shiro furrowed his brow, lips pursed, deep in thought. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and blew out a breath.

            “I cannot _believe_ this is giving me a hard time. Why on Earth is this giving me a hard time?” Pidge exclaimed. Her ruddy curls fell in front of her round glasses, and she blew them back into place with an irritated huff.

            “What are you not getting?” Lance asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. God forbid anyone asks him to do _anything._ “It’s a simple verb conjugation, one that we’ve gone over a thousand and one times.” He flattens the cheat sheet in use with his hands. “If we’re using the form of “yo”, how would we write “trabajar”?”

            Pidge had been trying to study with Lance for the past hour. She was a genius in every other subject, especially maths and sciences. All the more reason for her to get agitated when she couldn’t understand a word of what Lance was trying to teach her.

            She pinched her eyebrows and thought hard. “Traba…amos?”

            “Yes!”

            “Really?”

            “No!” Lance buried his face in his hands dramatically. “That would be the form of “Nosotros”, which means “we”. We’re looking for “yo”, which, mind you, is “you”.”

            Pidge groaned, rolling her eyes into the back of her head.

            “Aren’t you Italian? Shouldn’t you know how language works?”

            Her expression could wilt a flower. “My parents didn’t take the time to teach me. And besides, my mind works in numbers and equations, not words. It’s probably easy for _you_ because _you_ never stop flapping your gums.”

            “In my personal opinion,” Hunk said, “I happen to think that Lance does the required amount of gum flapping for a seventeen-year-old boy.”

            “That’s because you never stop talking, either. Anyways, when we – ”

            The bickering would go on like this for hours if Shiro let it, and he usually did. But today, something plagued his mind, knocking around in his skull and keeping him from thinking or comprehending anything else.

            “Shiro, what’s wrong?” Allura murmured suddenly. Shiro flinched; he had completely forgotten she was there.

            “Huh?”

            “Is everything alright?”

            He nodded, chewing on his lip and mustering a smile. “Everything is great.”

            She waited a beat. Then she cleared her throat. “You guys, something’s wrong troubling Shiro.”

            Allura had now gotten the attention of the whole table, and Shiro knew he was defeated. If his friends were anything, they were observant.

            “Do any of you know a Keith Kogane?”

            Everyone looked at a loss except for Lance, who curled his lip in agitation.

            “Is that a celebrity or something?” Hunk asked.

            “No, I know who he is,” Lance grumbled. “That’s the guy who’s always giving me a hard time.”

            “I’m fairly certain that in any scenario that includes you, it’s vice versa,” Pidge said matter-of-factly.

            “I don’t recognize the name,” Allura said.

            Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling shame. “He goes to our school.”

            “New student?”

            “No,” said Shiro exasperatedly, “He’s been going here for _three years.”_

            Allura looked dumbfounded. “I’ve never even heard of him. What does he look like?”

            Lance scoffed. “He’s my height, all dark and brooding, a _total_ lone-wolf vibe. Plus, he has long hair fashioned in a stupid-looking mullet thing going on. It’s ridiculous.”

            “He’s always wearing hoodies around school,” Shiro said, ignoring Lance’s ranting. “I don’t know how I never saw him before. Monday, we bumped into each other in the hall, and I swear to God I didn’t even know who he was. It freaked me out.”

            Hunk shrugged. “Why? I mean, there are, like, four hundred kids at this school.”

            “Yes,” Allura said, chuckling, “And Shiro knows every single one of them.”

            “All of ‘em?” Lance asked, his blue eyes growing wide.

            Shiro shrugged, “In one way or another.”

            Lance stretched his legs out and yawned dramatically. “I wouldn’t get too bent out of shape about it, honestly. If you ask me, the guy’s pretty lame.”

            “But we didn’t ask you.” Pidge flicked him with her pencil. “Now help me with this!”

            “I truly cannot aid you any further. You are, quite simply, hopeless.” Lance’s voice was thick with a fake British accent.

            “Guys, now’s not the time,” Allura said bluntly, in her completely natural British accent and only looking slightly offended at Lance’s attempt to mock her. “This is obviously really upsetting to Shiro.”

            Pidge was already stuffing her Spanish textbook into her bag before Allura finished her sentence. She moved her chair closer to Shiro and chewed on the inside of her cheek. “How did he manage to fly under all of our radars?” she thought out loud.

            “Um, _hello?”_ Lance said, pointing towards himself. “I’m the only guy who’s noticed him, can I get some gratitude, please?”

            “I would be grateful if you would stay silent,” Allura moaned, rubbing her temples. Lance was in one of his moods, where anyone in a three-hundred-foot radius would reap the consequences of his constant talking and irritating “humor”. Shiro wondered if he skipped his meds today.  

            “Did you look into it?” Pidge asked, adjusting her glasses and opening her laptop.

            Shiro nodded. “According to the yearbook, he’s been here since freshman year, and now he’s a junior.”

            “Do you know what classes he takes?”

            “Not off the top of my head,” Shiro said. Why did this bother him so much? Maybe it was because he went out of his way to make sure everyone at school, in some way or another, was noticed. He knew high school was the four years of wishing you could blend into the wall at any given time, but he also knew that with the right encouragement and kindness, no one would ever feel invisible – or ever want to.

            So, had Keith been ignored this entire time? Did he even have any friends? Shiro rubbed his eyes until he saw sparks of nonexistent light under the blackness of his lips. He could feel a stress migraine coming on and there was nothing he could do to stop this.

            Hunk clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man! Tomorrow you can just find him and talk to him. He definitely knows who _you_ are.”

            “What makes you say that?”

            Four pairs of eyes rolled into the back of their designated heads. “Shiro,” Pidge said slowly as if she was trying to explain to a four-year-child that the grass was green, not blue. “You’re the star quarterback and the most admired person at our school. Super smart, super talented, super popular, super liked, super – ”

            “Okay, okay!” Shiro exclaimed, waving his hands as if to bat away the compliments. “But if I haven’t noticed him, how do I know he’s not _trying_ to get noticed? What if he just wants to be left alone?”

            “I’m sure if he turns away Takashi “The Champion” Shirogane, you’ll know where he stands,” said Pidge, giving him a pointed look.

            “Maybe,” Shiro said quietly, still stuck in his own head and unable to escape.

            Allura began to pack her things. “I’m off,” she announced solemnly, “My shift is in twenty minutes.”

            Hunk stood as well. “Yeah, my break is over. See you guys tomorrow?”

            Farewells were distributed generously. Allura hugged Shiro tight and held him out at arm’s length. “You going to be okay?”

            Shiro smiled, brightening slightly. “Definitely. Call me tonight?”

            She hummed pleasantly and kissed him on the cheek. “Just talk to Keith. I promise he’ll want to get to know you, too. Don’t let this get to your head.”

            Shiro wanted nothing more to trust her word. Lance turned towards him and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what she said. He’s pretty chill, even though he’s a punk.”

            Pidge was nearly out the door when she called back, “Lance, you still owe me a study session! I’m not payin’ you for nothing!”

            Lance groaned. “ _¡Tumba eso_!” he replied grinning wickedly, knowing good and well it would take Pidge an eternity and a half to ever understand what he said.

            Shiro, despite his throbbing migraine and impending doom, smiled to himself because he knew his friends would somehow, against all odds, manage to cheer him up.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration:  
> "Wicked Ones" by Dorothy. (This song is playing in Keith's head at all times, along with a background of elevator music)

            _Almost there, almost there._

Sometimes it felt like getting through each day was a survival skill on its own. He counted down the seconds of each and every class, onto the next, make it through lunch, _keep your head down, keep walking, almost there, almost there._ Every class bell sounded like a fanfare of Heaven’s trumpets to his ears. Every slam of his locker door was one step closer to home free. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was the most efficient.

            His feet hurt, his eyes fought to stay open, his two-ton backpack got heavier with every footfall. The school doors were merely twenty yards away – _almost there._

             “Keith!”

            The sound of his own name being called was almost foreign. If the sound was any further away in distance, he would have pleaded plausible deniability and kept walking. But what stopped him in his tracks was the voice that called the name in the first place.

            Keith gave into the urge to turn around and grimaced at the sight of Takashi Shirogane jogging to catch up with him. Keith’s jacket suddenly felt too tight and he stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. They began to twitch anyways.

            “Hey, man,” Shiro said cheerily, coming to a halt in front of Keith, right in front of those blessed double doors. Keith leaned against the lockers, crossing one shin over the other, trying to ignore that a broad-shouldered figure with a grin brighter than the sun was blocking his only salvation.

            _Trapped._

Keith forced a deep breath through his nose. “Uh,” was all he could say. What could Shiro possibly want him for? The quarterback had hardly even glanced at him their entire high school years together. And now here he was, smiling in that weird cheery-camp-counselor way that seemed too rehearsed to be real, cutting him off from the one good thing about Keith’s day. Shiro certainly wasn’t keen on making good first impressions.

            “Uh, yeah,” Shiro chuckled uncertainly, leading Keith to believe that he didn’t really plan out what he was going to say.

            “Is there something you needed?” Keith asked, trying his hardest to sound patient.

            Shiro chuckled again. Keith never understood how people could be all grins and giggles during the weekday. Too much muscle strain. His lips would fall off before lunch.

            “Right, yeah. I’ve noticed that this year you haven’t been involved in any of our clubs or extracurricular groups.”

            _I haven’t joined a club the entire time I’ve been here._ “Not really my scene.”

            “No, I mean, that’s totally fine.” Then he knitted his eyebrows together, opened his mouth, closed it. Keith wondered if he was ever getting home.

            “Is it the people that keep you from doing it, or the clubs themselves?” The look of genuine concern on the boy’s face was the only thing that kept Keith from bolting straight for the doors.

            “Both, I guess?” Keith ran a hand over the back of his head and tugged on his ponytail. “Look, I really ought to get going…”

            He tried to step around Shiro, but the senior stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Keith’s defenses spiked, dense and unforgiving. His patience had worn thin.

            “Don’t,” he nearly growled. The hand was removed.

            “Sorry,” Shiro said quickly, “I – ”

            “Listen,” Keith began, blowing out a breath. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I don’t do “clubs” and I don’t do “groups”. I spend too much time here as it is. I come here, go through my classes, and then I leave.”

            Shiro’s eyes went wide. “Gosh, I mean – ”

            “I get it. You’re reaching out; you want to help out the weird kid. But I’ve been here for years, and my routine has been working thus far. I don’t need anyone coming in and changing it.”

            Something new flashed across Shiro’s face that made Keith step back. First, it was obvious hurt – _oops_ – but something else was lying beneath, something dangerous. It went so quickly, Keith wondered if he imagined the whole thing. “Hey man, I just trying to – ”

            “To be nice,” Keith nodded, annoyed. “I’ve heard it all before. I don’t need your charity, Golden Boy. Now leave me alone.” He shoved past Shiro, face red and heated, and finally made it through those incredible and miraculous double doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is gonna be a long-term fic, probably ending a good while after they've both graduated. Comments are appreciated if you have any questions about the characters!
> 
> \- Kaz


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting to be too much for Takashi Shirogane...

            “He hates me. He really hates me.” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose.

            Lance clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. Keith hates pretty much everything. You’re just in the vast majority.”

            “Lance,” Pidge said through gritted teeth, “Not helping.” Lance’s expression went from cocky to sheepish, and he muttered a half-hearted apology.

            “He does have a point, though.” Allura shut her textbook. “If this kid has been invisible his entire time here, maybe it’s because he wants to keep it that way.”

            Shiro didn’t like that answer. Mostly because he knew it was spot on. It was just –

            “The way he reacted when I touched him…Like a wounded animal almost.” Shiro thought aloud.

            “That seems like isolated behavior,” Pidge muttered, typing away at her clunky laptop. “Maybe it’s a trigger or something.”

            “So now he’s psychotic?” Lance scoffed. “You people are way too in your heads about this. He’s a jerk, that’s the end of it.”

            “Psychotic might not be the best word for this, Lance,” Allura said sensitively.

            “I can’t even eat,” Shiro moaned, pushing away his tray.

            “Seriously, Shiro. If Keith doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like you.” Pidge placed a delicate hand on Shiro’s knee. “You’re just going to have to let it go.”

            Allura nodded. “Pidge is right.”

            Shiro wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear, but that wasn’t it. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

            “Me too,” Allura admitted. “Let me help take your mind off of it.” She reached into her pack and slammed a thick binder on the lunch table. “Help me plan.”

            Shiro’s head shot up. “For what?”

            “Prom planning, of course.”

            Lance groaned. “The school year just started. Prom is forever away!”

            “When you’re the head of the event planning committee, you have to be on top of things. Now what should our theme be, do you think?”

            “You’re the captain of the cheer squad, too, even. How do you even have time to get straight A’s?” Pidge grumbled, her face plastered in her textbook.

            “Time management and years of practice.”

            For the rest of lunch, Shiro nodded numbly as Allura ran through color schemes and ideas for which space to use. He loved her to death, but he needed a serious breather.

            As they dismissed for class, Shiro pilled Lance back while the others kept walking.

            “Hey,” Shiro said delicately. “Are you doing okay?”

            Lance shrugged, “Peachy, why?”

            “You seem kind of off. Are you still on your new meds?”

            Lance frowned, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t make enough this month at the shop to cover my prescription.”

            “Does your mom know?”

            “No, but it’s okay. She’s working nights now, too, and she still has to pay the nanny while I’m off at work with my extra hours. I don’t need to bother her with this crap.”

            Shiro pulled out his wallet. “Well, here, how much does it cost?”

            “No.” Lance pushed the wallet away and shook his head. “Absolutely not. Shiro, it’s _fine,_ really. I just have to make it through this next week and then I can pay for my own.” He shouldered his pack and smiled brightly. “But thanks, man. You’re a good guy. I gotta get to chem, but I’ll see you later.”

            Shiro nodded, “Take care of yourself, alright?”

            “Okay, Mom.”

            Just as Shiro turned to leave, he heard Lance’s voice again. “Hey, Shiro?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Seriously, don’t get caught up in your head with Keith.” Then he winked. “He’s a jackass, anyways.”  
  
  


            *******************************************************************  
  
  


            “Shiro, what’s going on?”

            _I swear if I hear that question one more time, I’ll –_ “What do you mean, Coach?”

            Coach Alfor sat next to Shiro on the bleacher and swung his towel over his neck. “I mean, your head hasn’t been at practice. Penny for your thoughts?”

            “Just start-of-the-year stress, sir. Nothing I can’t handle.”

            It was the truth to some extent. Everything was good, _great_ even, and Shiro was hell-bent on keeping it that way. But there are only twenty-four hours in a day. But he could handle it. He had to.

            “Glad to hear it.”

            As the sun rose the next morning, Shiro’s hands shook as he crammed for the forgotten English test he had in the upcoming hours. Without a wink of sleep, he forced himself to take an ice-cold shower, struggled to swallow a barely-chewed bagel, flung his backpack over his shoulder, and made it to the first traffic light before realizing he was still in his pajama pants. He was definitely keeping it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Another chapter is probably going to be up later today, I just have to type it all out and making the revisions accordingly! Comment your thoughts and questions <3 
> 
> \- Kaz


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing paint across his cheek. Shiro fought the strange urge to wipe it off. “You know, you could just leave and plead plausible deniability.”
> 
> “That would be lying.”
> 
> “Oh, my bad. I forgot you were the patron saint of absolute B.S.”

            Breaking into the school was the easy part.

            A forgotten utility closet window, the lock smashed with a hefty rock, and then he climbed through, simpler than the alphabet. The real problem was staying hidden and concealed while doing it, while a noisy duffle bag hung off of his shoulder and thudded against his thigh annoyingly. Keith, opening the closet door from the inside, flipped his head and covered the lower half of his face with his mask. He knew he couldn’t avoid the security cameras, but if they didn’t know who it was, maybe it would buy him some time.

            He ignored the metallic clinking coming from inside his bag, looked both ways before he stepped out of the small room, and then sprinted down the hall. He made two right turns and a left before coming to a halt at the only bare wall in the entire building.

            Keith unzipped his bag, shook out a can, and got to work.

 

            ************

            Shiro’s stride stopped short. _I’m not alone._

            He couldn’t quite put a finger on the sound he was hearing, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. His hands closed over his dangling ring of keys and took a few cautious steps forward. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to determine what direction to go in. A faint noise of what sounded like dice rolling came from the left, and there he went.

            His heart beat in his chest as he walked quietly through the halls. He quickly fastened a few keys between the knuckles of his tightened fist as he approached the sound. Shiro came to a left turn but braced himself before he took another step. He had no idea if this was even a person or an animal, or if it was just some faulty plumbing. But what if it _was_ a person? They could be dangerous, or psycho, or –

            Shiro pushed himself to walk before he could talk himself out of it. The hall was dark, like the rest of the building, but there stood a hooded figure with a headlight, spray painting the wall.

            “Hey!” Shiro barked before he could stop himself. The figure, without even sparing Shiro’s direction a glance, bolted.

            Shiro pumped his arms and legs as he gained on the vandal. Reaching out, he yanked their shoulders back and pulled them both to the floor, detaining their arms with his own. With one swift motion, he pulled their mask down and his breath caught in his throat.

            “Keith – ?”

            The dark-haired boy shoved him away and brought himself to his feet. He was breathing heavy, spray paint flicked across his face like rainbow freckles.

            “W-what are you doing?”

            “What does it look like?” Keith asked, sounding oddly weary. “Making a statement.”

            “You need to leave. Right now.”

            Keith’s voice became low and guttural. “Make me.” He picked up a fallen spray can, gave it a good shake, and added another stripe to the wall.

            Shiro, now suddenly feeling the impact of his unplanned assault in his right shoulder, groaned as he stood. “Why?”

            “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

            Shiro paused, taking a moment to observe. Keith’s eyes had gone from fiery to clear as he defaced the wall. But as Shiro’s eyes scanned the painting, he realized Keith wasn’t defacing anything. He was making art.

            It pained him to say the words. “I’m going to have to report you.”

            Keith was silent for a long moment, his eyes never wavering from the can in his hand. He bent down, rifled through his duffle bag, and pulled out an old newspaper. Shiro watched as he tore out a page, crumpled it into a ball several times, and laid it on the wet surface, again and again, taking off pieces of the wet paint in layers.

            “What are you doing now?” Shiro asked without meaning to.

            “Adding texture and dimension.” Keith wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing paint across his cheek. Shiro fought the strange urge to wipe it off. “You know, you could just leave and plead plausible deniability.”

            “That would be lying.”

            “Oh, my bad. I forgot you were the patron saint of absolute B.S.”

            That shut Shiro up for a good thirty seconds. “Huh?” he sputtered.

            The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched. “Awh, you’re adorable when you play dumb.”

            Shiro rubbed the back of his neck nervously. They had been here too long.

            Keith looked at him in sudden surprise. “Wait a sec, what are _you_ doing here?”

            “Coach Alfor has me lock up every Friday night because he’s at his second job. _I_ was doing legal things like locking up the gym and cafeteria.”

            Keith shrugged and turned back to his work. “You’ve always been the goody-two-shoes.”

            Having been called that countless times, the words still stung coming from Keith. “We really need to leave.”

            Keith used his thumb to make a few marks on the wall. “No, _you_ need to leave. I’m not done yet.”

            “Keith, I’m serious. We could both get in serious trouble for this.”

            “Why would you get in trouble?”

            “Because if we wait any longer, I’m not going to want you to stop.”

            Keith turned to him, finally fully acknowledging his presence. “You like it?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

            Shiro swallowed dryly. “Yes, but that’s not the point. The point is that it’s illegal. So we need to _go.”_  

            “Give me a minute.” Shiro tapped his foot impatiently as Keith finished off his masterpiece. After a few obnoxiously long moments, Keith took a step back and admired his work. “It’s not what I wanted, but it would do.”

            Shiro couldn’t even see the wall in its entirety from the darkness, but he assumed he would find out soon enough. He headed towards the double doors at the opposite end of the hall and pulled the school keys out once more. As he turned the lock and pushed his full weight against the door, he heard a panicked call. “ _Wait-!”_

            But it was too late. The school alarms, jarred and blaring, sounded off, and all hope was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically it's 11:46pm where I am so i DID get another chapter in today! (Take THAT, procrastination!) I hope you enjoyyyy. Comment your thoughts and questions! 
> 
> \- Kaz


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm just trying to apologize.” Keith spat out the words like they were rancid. He hardly ever apologized for anything he didn’t regret. And yet here he was, feeling guiltier than he ever thought possible, for a boy he never wanted to give a crap about.

            “I have to say,” said Vice Principle Lotor, pacing in front of the two alleged vandals. “I am a bit surprised to see either of you here.”

            Keith’s hands twitched uncontrollably in his lap, so he clasped his fingers together and forced them still. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spared a glance at Shiro, who looked straight ahead with a set jaw.

            “Why don’t you tell me both of your sides of the story?” Lotor sat down and pressed his fingertips to his temple. “And please, spare me any false tales. I don’t want to spend all day resolving this matter.”

            Keith cleared his throat. He might as well come clean. “Sir,” he began respectively, “I – ”

            “We did it together.”

            Keith’s breath stuttered in his chest, but he forced it back down as he listened intently to what Shiro had to say. Heat flickered across his cheeks as his frustration grew.

            “How so, Mister Shirogane?”

            Shiro took a deep breath. “Keith decided to graffiti the wall, and he needed someone to get him inside the school. I was already locking up for Coach Alfor so I let him in and kept watch. When he was finished, I tried to leave the way I came, but we opened the wrong door and triggered the alarm.”

            Lotor looked at Keith, then at Shiro, and back at Keith, trying to gauge the honesty in the statement. He was silent for a long moment, his hands intertwined and his two index fingers pressing hard against his lips. He nodded slowly for what seemed like a million times. Then, finally, he spoke.

            “And what, pray tell, would be the motive behind this criminal act?”

            When Shiro didn’t say anything for a while, Keith thought for a panicked second that it was up to _him_ to make something up. But then Shiro said in a low voice, “I’m afraid I can’t give you one, sir.”

            “Why is that?”

            Shiro swallowed. “Because there’s no excuse for what we did.”

             Lotor’s eyes flashed something borderline psychotic. “Well, you’re certainly right about that,” he spat.

            Keith’s chest was so tight he wondered how his lungs had space to breath. Even in their clenched fists, his fingers began to fidget.

            “I will discuss the means of your definite punishment with Principal Zarkon, but I  can tell you right now, it will not be pretty. You’re lucky we dismissed the authorities away from this disaster, or you two would be treading some very deep and dangerous waters.”

            They were dismissed. When the office door shut behind them, Keith turned to Shiro with gritted teeth.

            “Why did you do that?” he asked accusingly.

            “I wasn’t about to let you take the fall, Keith,” Shiro said tiredly. Keith noticed the deep and dark bags under his eyes and the tussle of his normally perfect hair. Even his cheeks looked a bit sunken in. “I’m responsible, too.”

            “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is on me, you didn’t have to save me.”

            Shiro looked at him, darkness replacing the exhaustion. “I didn’t _save_ you. You don’t owe me anything.”

            _Yes, I do, and you know it._ Keith’s fingernails were really starting to hurt the palm of his hand. “You just got yourself in trouble over something you could have easily avoided. Why?”

            “I was already in trouble when I didn’t call the police the moment I saw you. Technically, I would have been considered an accessory to the crime. I don’t regret what I did.”

            “Why?”

            Shiro bit his lip and made eye contact for the first time. “Because you don’t regret it either.”

            Keith shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling his shoulders tense. What bothered him the most was that not only he could get expelled, but Shiro as well. And it would be all Keith’ fault. He would suddenly become _very_ unpopular. But he supposed it wouldn’t matter – because he would be expelled, too. He didn’t regret what he did like Shiro had said, but he wasn’t going to enjoy getting Mr. Perfect kicked out of the best school in the state.

            After school, they were called back into the principal’s office, and Keith had never felt more intimidated in his entire life. Principal Zarkon – no one called him that, just Principal Z – was more beast than man, reaching at least six foot seven, built like a brick wall, and perfectly tailored facial hair. Keith had only seen him a handful of times before, but that was at a distance, and even then he was terrifying.

            Shiro and Keith sat in uncomfortable silence while Z started them down, his mouth pulling down at the corners.

            “Boys,” he said finally, his voice deep and booming, “I have to say, I’m extremely disappointed in both of you.”

            Keith had heard this phrase before coming from several different people, but hearing Principal Z say it struck a chord within him, and he hung his head. Z pulled out a few papers from a blue folder that lay open on his desk.

            “You both hold perfect attendance, exceptional grades, and no previous offenses. What has become of you?” Keith couldn’t even bring himself to look the man in the eye.

            “For what it’s worth,” Shiro began slowly, “We’re both extremely sorry for the trouble that we’ve caused.” 

            Keith felt the urge to scoff right then and there. _Speak for yourself, Golden Boy._ But he kept quiet.

            The principal nodded. “I accept your apology. But something has to be done.”

            The boys nodded understandingly.

            “As you know, to uphold the school’s image and reputation, we obtain a strict zero-tolerance policy for any offenses, especially something of this caliber.”

            _Expulsion,_ thought Keith with a panicked kick of his heart. Shiro would never forgive him.

            “But,” Principal Z said with a sigh, “I _am_ willing to make a slight exception, on behalf of your crystal clear record.”

            “An exception, sir?” Shiro’s voice was filtered through the surprise.

            “For Keith, a four-day suspension,” Zarkon explained. “And I’ll have you both clean up your little art project, along with one hundred documented hours of volunteer janitorial services around the school, overseen by Vice Principal Lotor.” He paused, his features clouding over. “And…Shiro, it pains me to say this, but I’m going to have to ask you to resign from your position on the football team.”

            “ _No!”_

            The words flew out of Keith’s mouth before he could catch them in the grit of his teeth. Shiro looked at him with reassuring eyes. “Keith…”

            “No,” Keith repeated, shaking his head. “You can’t do that! He’s the _star_ quarterback.”

            “Keith – ”

            “ – he has scouts to coming to all the big games – ”

            “Keith, stop.”

            “It’s not even his fau – ”

            “Enough, Keith!” Shiro exclaimed angrily, earning shocked looks from both Z and Keith. “It’s my punishment. Just…let me take this. I signed up for this.”

            _But you didn’t,_ Keith wanted to cry helplessly.

            “I’m sorry, Shiro,” Principal Z says sincerely. “I would hate to see all of this talent being thrown away, but – ”

            “Sir, I understand.” Shiro gave him a small, respectful smile. “Thank you for your consideration.”

            They were dismissed for the second time that day, and once again the two boys found themselves in the hall outside of the office door. Keith didn’t know what to say to Shiro, how to express his anger and gratitude simultaneously without overriding one of the emotions.

            “Sh-”

            “Don’t.”

            “I'm just trying to apologize.” Keith spat out the words like they were rancid. He hardly ever apologized for anything he didn’t regret. And yet here he was, feeling guiltier than he ever thought possible, for a boy he never wanted to give a crap about.

            “You don’t need to. Besides, I guess now we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other, huh?”

            Keith rolled his eyes, trying to fight the slight curling of his lips. “It seems like it. Sucks that Lotor is gonna be there the whole time.”

            “Yeah, that guy sucks.”

            Keith looked at the senior for a drawling moment. Shiro’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

            “Nothing…I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything bad about…anyone. Ever.”

            “Oh I say plenty of things,” Shiro says with a grin. “Just never out loud.”

            “Well, don’t keep quiet for my sake. I’d like to hear these things you speak of.”

            “Oh, I’m sure that at some point through our ‘one hundred documented hours of volunteer janitorial services around the school’,” Shiro said with a spot-on Principal Z impression, “You definitely will.”


	6. Chapter Six

            “Allura,” Shiro pleaded. “Please talk to me.”

            Allura kept her silence. She finished putting up her hair, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and make a determined attempt for the door, but Shiro was quick to react and blocked her path with an outstretched arm.

            “Don’t shut me out,” Shiro said, his voice on the verge of begging. “Please.”

            Allura hesitated, avoiding eye contact and chewing on her lips. When she finally looked at him, tears spilled over her cheeks. “Why?” she asked, her voice weak. “Why would you give up everything?”

            Shame flooded every crevice in Shiro’s chest. The voice in his head screamed at him to be better. _Make it better._ “I need to be held accountable for my actions. If I placed all of the blame on someone else, what kind of person would I be?”

            “This wasn’t about kindness,” said Allura, her face contorting. “This was just foolishness.”

            “Then call me a fool!” Shiro exclaimed and threw his hands up. “Call me an idiot, or a moron, or stupid. I don’t care.” _Wrong wrong wrong._

            “Do you even regret what you’ve done? All that you’ve been working towards for years? Threw away everything for _him?”_

            “This isn’t about Keith. I wouldn’t change my decision. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Allura.”

            The words hung in the air as the two stood apart, looking into each other’s eyes and wanting to look anywhere else. Shiro could see that Allura’s bottom lip was trembling and she was a thread’s pull from sobbing. _Fix it._

            “Allura, why is this so upsetting to you?”

            “Because you were supposed to get into Altea University with me,” she choked out.

            The realization hit Shiro square on. He knew that the scholarship was riding on his completed football season for the senior year and that giving the team up meant giving up a dream he was never meant to live out. But he forgot about his and Allura’s plan. Go to college; move in together, he would be on the football team, and Allura would pursue her career goals, and whatever fate had in store for the couple. How was he going to do that when he was four hundred miles away?

            Shiro took hold of Allura’s hands and squeezed them. “We’ll make it work. We always have.”

            “I don’t…” Allura took a deep shuddering breath. “I didn’t want it to come to that. I don’t want to have to compromise.”

            “Allura,” Shiro tilted her chin to look at him with a delicate hand, “Whatever happens, it’s my burden to bear. I don’t want you to worry.” _Do better._

            She nodded, and he wiped away a tear with his thumb. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “I’ll make sure of it.”

            He could feel Allura nodding into his shoulder. She pulled back and wiped her face. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

            Shiro took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Stay with me tonight,” he said in a low voice. _Heal her._

            Allura nodded again, and kissed him again, harder this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short, but just a bit of development in the Shiro/Allura department. Enjoy! 
> 
> ~ Kaz


	7. Chapter Seven

            Shiro dipped his squidgy into his bucket of hot sudsy water. “You know,” he said, “I’m actually kind of bummed that we have to wash this off.”

            Keith scoffed dryly. “Don’t sound too surprised.”

            The wall that Keith had decorated was still just as fresh and rebellious as it was when Shiro came upon him in the middle of the night. The base was a thick black with white flicked lightly around the edges. Most of the illustrations were surrounding the text, which was written in red and black scrawled lettering reading “NO MORE SILENCE” and “STAND FOR CHANGE”. A raised fist was depicted with black fire surrounding it, with other small elements, such as a face with tape around its mouth Shiro still wasn’t quite sure why Keith chose this narrative as the subject of his protest against whatever he was protesting about, but for some reasons, the words opened the floodgates inside of him and let loose of something he wasn’t prepared for.

            “You still haven’t told me why,” Shiro said.

            Keith flipped his towel over his shoulder, squatting down to add more cleaning solution to his bucket of water. “Why what?”

            Shiro gestured to the wall vaguely. “Why… _this?”_

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

            “You’re not Houdini. You’re a high school junior with a spray can.”

            Keith stood up and frowned. “That’s rude. Besides, Houdini is overrated. Apollo Robbins is where it’s at.”

            “Glad to know you’re up to date with which magician is relevant in our modern age.”

            Keith rolled his eyes and pulled out the pencil he had placed behind his ear. With a flick of his wrist, the pencil disappeared. Shiro’s eyes widened as it appeared again between Keith’s knuckles.

“Sleight of hand, huh?” Shiro said, trying to mask how impressed he was with a chuckle.

Keith certainly was full of surprises.

 Keith set his jaw and began to twist his black hair around the pencil, fastening it into a

low bun. He stood, wringing out his towel, but before he could start scrubbing at the wall, Shiro stopped him.

            “Wait,” he said, pulling out his phone and stepping back. Quickly, he snapped a shot of the mural and slid it back into his pocket. “There, now you can clean.”

            Keith looked at Shiro for a long moment, studying his face.

            Shiro gave a sad smile. “It really is a shame,” he said quietly, “that we have to wash it off.”

            Keith only shrugged, keeping silent, and began scrubbing off the paint. Shiro followed suit but felt awkward with the silence that loomed over the hallway. He tried to think of anything they have in common, but he barely knew the kid, let alone knew how to communicate with him. Did Keith even like Shiro? He probably hated him, if Shiro was being honest with himself.

            Shiro looked over at Keith as inconspicuously as he could. His dark brows were pulled together, furrowed and thick. He almost looked…sad, wiping away the paint of his latest art project. He must’ve known that they wouldn’t keep the graffiti up once they discovered who did it.

            “Can I help you?” Keith muttered, keeping his eyes on the wall.

            _I’m staring,_ Shiro realized with the sharp familiar jab of panic. He turned his attention to the wall and watched as the paint slid off the surface with ease.

            “You know, you never told _me_ why either,” Keith said.

            Shiro waited a beat, thinking about his answer. “I don’t really know why.”

            “Do you always ruin your future impulsively to save the skin of someone you don’t know? Or is that just a hobby on the weekends?” Shiro wasn’t sure how Keith always managed to have humor without sounding humorous or even cracking a smile.

            “I didn’t ruin my future; I just ruined the future that everyone wanted me to have.” As soon as he spoke the words, he knew it was the God-honest truth. Everyone – his family, his friends, his peers – depended on him to be someone successful, a star quarterback or a businessman or a doctor or whatever made men “successful”. But at the end of the day, if Shiro truly allowed himself be truthful, none of that was what he wanted.

            Keith’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, so the Golden Boy has an edge. Interesting.”

            “I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

            “You practically scream male perfection. Have you met you?”

            Shiro could only chuckle. “Unfortunately.”

            Keith was quiet for a moment. Then he gave a dry chuckle, with his lips in a straight line. “Sounds like someone has a lot of unchecked self-esteem issues to work on.”

            Shiro rolled his eyes. “Don’t we all?”

            Keith nodded. “Don’t we all indeed.


	8. Chapter Eight

            Motoshi Shirogane sat with his arms crossed over his chest. His features were hardened like stone, an expression with slit eyes in what could only be described as composed anger. Shiro could feel himself sinking into the couch, the crushing weight of the silence pushing on his shoulders.

            Why was silence always so terrifying to him? A blank face with shut-off body language could make Shiro’s skin crawl. Could the dark pit in his chest really be filled with simple dialogue? He didn’t know how to communicate with someone if they didn’t have a quick reaction time.

            Growing up, his father would isolate him in silence. If he ever did anything wrong, anything at all, Motoshi would go days, perhaps even a few weeks, of little to no verbal communication with him. He would leave the boy notes in the morning to wake up to before he left for school. _Make sure to eat your lunch. Take out the garbage when you get home._ – _Father._ This would go on until Shiro would beg for his father’s voice, pleading on his hands and knees, tears splattered on the hard floorboards beneath him. His father would only stare, his frown the prominent feature on his face. He would stand, take a deep breath. _Have you learned your lesson, Takashi?_

            _Yes! Oh yes, please, Father, don’t shut me out._

_Don’t shut me out._

_Please._

It happened more times than Shiro was willing to admit. Those were the darkest days of his life. So he got better, he _did_ better. Sometimes, the two would go a couple of years without another incident. He got the best grades, was friendly to everyone he met, did as many extracurricular activities as he possibly could. Anything to keep his father in his life.

            And now, Shiro could feel his father slipping. He still hadn’t said anything. Shiro felt his body going on the verge of complete panic, ruthless and unrelenting.

            But then, Motoshi took a deep breath. “I can’t even express the disappointment I feel right at this moment.”

            _At least he’s speaking to you._ “I understand, sir.”

            “I mean,” his father ran his hands through his grey, thinning hair, “How could this even happen? Why would you do this?”

            Shiro was at a loss for words. How could his father ever truly understand? Shiro couldn’t even understand himself. This was the first impulsive and reckless decision he had made in years, and the consequences were numerous. And yet…Shiro couldn’t bring himself to regret it. In fact, he felt guilt over the fact that he _didn’t_ feel guilty at all.

            “Well?” Motoshi pressed.

            “If I hadn’t taken partial responsibility, another student would have been wrongfully expelled. His entire future would have been ruined.”

            His father stood up abruptly and Shiro flinched. “What about _your_ future?” he said, pointing an accusing finger. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How much trouble you’ve caused?”

            _Burden._ “I…I understand,” Shiro said, his mouth suddenly too dry to swallow.

            Motoshi shook his head. “I don’t think you do. High school, football, college? All gone because of this. I’m…” A forced exhale and a deep vibration of the throat made Shiro's attention snap. “What…Shiro, what would your mother think?”

            A cold wave of nausea washed over Shiro. It crashed over his head and pulled him down in the undertow, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could only stare as tears flooded his eyes and spilled over their ducts. That was the _one_ thought he was desperately trying to bat away with a weary hand.

            “H-How could you say that?”

            “I’m only saying what we’re both thinking. She put everything into your future, son. And you threw it away because of graffiti and a stranger?”

            _He’s not a stranger,_ Shiro’s mind yelled back defensively. He wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but he didn’t ignore it. “I’m sorry.” What else could he say? Nothing would ever suffice.

            Motoshi was silent for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, standing stiff as a board.

_Please don’t shut me out. Please. Please please please._

“You’re going to live to regret this.”

            _Don’t._

            When his father walked away, the tears ceased. A numbing sensation flowed over Shiro’s chest. He remembered the nights he had spent crying, clutching his plush lion close to his chest, squeezing and wracked with tears so painfully he thought his throat would split up. He remembered waking up and kneeling by his bed, praying to someone, somewhere, that his father would look at him that day or even the next. Those days in isolation were lessons. Shiro never knew how much they took a toll on until now. He never realized how much it hurt until his father’s silence was deafening once again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing is a little off, I know. I'm trying to write as much as possible though, to keep my productivity alive. I'm on new meds, and it's taking a while for my body to properly adjust. I get dizzy really easily, my muscles are wobbly and sore, and my disassociation disorder is amped up to about a thousand. But! C'est la vie, my loves. Enjoy! ~ 
> 
> Kaz


	9. Chapter Nine

            “Keith!”

            _That sound,_ Keith cringed internally. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to, and he quickened his pace. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off.

            “Leave me alone, Lance.” Keith turned around only to acknowledge the kid’s existence. Lance was only a sophomore, but he was taller and leaner than Keith (not that Keith noticed at all, that’s ridiculous). Keith could tell he had been training more than usual, because his clothes always seemed to be soaked from the inside out, like he hadn’t properly dried off from the pool, and his tan had gone from tan to dark brown in the matter of a week.

            “I just wanted to talk,” Lance said out of breath. His eyebrows pinched in the middle, and Keith realized Lance wasn’t here to be obnoxious like he normally was. He was concerned.

            “You’re going to ask about Shiro,” Keith said factually.

            “Well – I – Yeah.” Lance scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “How is all that working out?”

            “You mean playing janitor with Mr. Perfect? It’s going.”

            “And…how is Shiro?”

            Keith tried not to show his confusion too outwardly. “What do you mean? You’re the one he talks to voluntarily.”

            “He actually…uh,” This was the first time Keith had seen Lance at a loss for word and he drank in every second of the moment, savoring it. “He hasn’t really been around the past couple of days? I think he’s avoiding me.”

            “And…um, why are you coming to me with this?”

            Lance’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t know, man. I’m just worried.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I guess I’m desperate.”

            _Tell me about it,_ Keith thought dryly. “Well, Shiro seems like he’s fine. He’s like he always is, I guess.”

            “How would you know? You barely know him.”

            “I didn’t realize this was a competition. You asked, I answered. Is there anything else you want?”

            “No,” Lance said, but the look in his eye told Keith that there was more.

            “Lance, just spit it out, will you? You’re going blue in the face.”

            Lance bit his lip and his knuckles twitched. Just like Keith’s did. “Why’d he do it?”

            “Why’d he do…?” Keith hated when people played fill-in-the-blanks with him.

            “Why’d he take the fall for you? I mean…what’s the point in that?”

            _“I wish I knew,”_ was what Keith wanted to say. _“I wish he hadn’t.”_ But he only shrugged. “He didn’t take the fall for me. He was there, too.”

            “Did…did he help you paint?”

            “Well, no. But he was an accomplice. And I got in trouble, too, so he wasn’t taking the fall _for_ me, just with me.”

            Lance rubbed his eyes like he was getting a migraine. “I just don’t get it. He got kicked off of the football team, I mean that’s crazy! He acts like it doesn’t bother him, too.”

            “It does.” The words came out faster than Keith’s thought process. But it was true. He had seen the light go out in Shiro’s eyes the moment Principal Z gave the orders. He knew how Shiro’s future was inevitably ruined by this offense, the offense Keith was solely responsible for. His career, his accomplishments, all washing into the gutter over a stupid rebellious streak Keith had going.

            “It does?”

            “I mean,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck, feeling undeniably uncomfortable. “Wouldn’t it bother you? If you slipped up _once,_ and then your dream college didn’t want you anymore?”

            Lance shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, that would suck. Really bad.”

            “Uh, try ‘devastating’, not ‘suck’. Shiro can handle a lot, but he’s still human.”

            Lance chuckled to himself. “What do _you_ know about human psychology?”

            “I pay attention.” And with that, Keith turned on his heel and walked away.

 

            ************************************************************************

 

            Shiro could feel his eyelids dropping dangerously, his head spinning if he moved too fast or too unexpectedly. His leg muscles had been in spasms all day, hardly able to hold his full weight for more than ten minutes. Bending over and picking up garbage, the constant change in balance on his cranium and back made the inside of his skull feel like a soda can that had been violently tossed around, the pressure only building. He tried to focus on his surroundings. There was the blue of the sky, pure and untainted; the grass, cool and unnaturally green; the bag he clutched in his hand, half-filled with discarded wrapped, bottles, pieces of paper, and anything else that could possibly be tossed onto the ground without a scent of remorse. He glanced over at Keith, who was on his hands and knees, crawling over to each piece of garbage in the grass. His several ear piercings glinted in the heavy sunlight, his dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. He was wearing a dark green army jacket, ripped jeans, and black combat boots with far too many laces.

            “Uh,” Keith said, looking uncomfortable even from afar. “Is there something you need?”

            Shiro’s head snapped back down, his cheeks heating when he realized he zoned out in Keith’s direction on accident. The pain behind his eyes increased and he had to shut his eyes to stifle it.

            “You okay?” Keith asked, putting down his bag.

            Shiro shook the stars out of his head. “Yeah. Just a little…ah, light-headed.”

            “What for?”

            “Not much sleep?” Shiro suggested, shrugging. “Or much else.”

            “Like…food, water, any nourishment at all?”

            Shiro looked up from his feet blearily, his eyes adjusting to the stability in his vision. “Ah, I don’t remember. Is today Tuesday or Wednesday?”

            “Today is _Friday,_ and I’m taking you to eat when we’re done. What do you even do during lunch if you’re not eating?”

            “Studying.”

            “Don’t you do that at home?”

            “I have a lot of homework.”

            “No one has _that_ much homework. You’re overworking yourself.”

            “I’m fine. I just have to keep my grades up for all of my A.P. classes. You don’t have to worry.”

            Keith rolled back off of his knees and stood, brushing off his jeans. “I’m not worried; I just can’t have you keel over before we finish our hours. Come on, let’s finish up and I’ll take you to eat.”

            Shiro’s chest shuddered with every breath and he could hardly get to his feet without Keith grabbing his forearm and hoisting him up. He definitely needed _something._

             An hour later, he held a coffee mug in both hands, staring into the blackness like it was a bottomless abyss. The leather booth was cool to the touch, and the liveliness of the diner seemed to keep him awake.

            “You drink yours black?” Keith asked, pulling out some sugar and cream for his own coffee.

            “Uh, no, sugar please,” Shiro said groggily.

            Keith reached over and poured a packet into the senior’s mug. “Jeez, when was the last time you slept?”

            “Define “sleep”.”

            “At least three hours?”

            Shiro shook his head and took a slow sip of his coffee. “I’ve been living off of forty-five-minute power naps for the past two weeks. At night, I get maybe two hours if I’m lucky.”

            “Are you serious?” Concern etched lines into Keith’s face. “You’re going to get yourself killed that way.”

            _Hopefully,_ Shiro thought bitterly. He would’ve said it out loud, but Keith was already worried enough. He didn’t need his ironic suicidal (half-joking) jokes to set him off.

            “I just have to get through mid-terms and then I can relax. My dad won’t get off my back about it.” Fully-alert Shiro would’ve filtered out any home life talk and any information about the intensity of his family. But sleep-deprived Shiro could control little to nothing coming out of his mouth.

            “Your dad is strict?” Keith asked, rubbing the fabric of his jacket between his fingers.

            “That’s…not the word I would use. He’s just…passionate. About making sure I’m everything he wants in a single son and more.”

            “That sounds strict.”

            Shiro shrugged. “It’s just something I have to live with. He’s great, though, when he’s…you know, content with the person I am.”

            “Which is when?”

            “Close to never.”

            “That’s what I thought.”

             The waitress, who knew Keith by name, ruffled his black hair and took their orders. Her name was Marge, which was strikingly 80’s, and went into the back to retrieve their food.

            “What about your dad?”  Shiro asked.

            Keith’s jaw set. “Hard pass.” He slid off his jacket and placed it over his lap, focusing a little too much on his hands.

            “Sorry,” Shiro murmured. They sat in silence (can you call it silence when the din in the room was so pleasant and comfortable?) until their heaping plates of food came.

            “Good god,” Shiro groaned, watching Keith pour syrup over his waffles, eggs, and hash browns. _Cute habit,_ he thought unadulterated.

            “Eat,” Keith ordered, pushing Shiro’s multiple plates closer to him. Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he had a full meal that he actually paid attention to. His life in the past month had consisted of energy bars, quick smoothies, and water if fate said it be so.

            Biting into his pancakes was a euphoric sense of comfort. Everything that had seemed muggy and bleak suddenly transformed into warmth. A sense of home.

            “Where did you even find this place,” Shiro moaned, shoveling another bite of food into his mouth. He knew his digestive system was going to regret this in an hour, but he didn’t care. Not anymore.

            “I come here all the time. They have the best breakfast food twenty-four hours a day.” Shiro noticed Keith chewed his food daintily like every bite was a single miracle in of itself.

            “God bless you,” Shiro whispered, partly to the food, partly to Keith.

            “Anytime,” Keith murmured. “How do you feel?”

            Shiro swallowed painfully and grinned. “Like a million bucks.”

            “And you look it,” Keith said, his eyes smiling. “Seriously though, no more skimping on meals and sleep. It’s crazy dangerous.”

            “Yes, _mom.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another update. Enjoy! Comments are appreciated, they allow me to grow as a writer! 
> 
> \- Kaz


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the life of Keith Kogane.

Seeing Takashi Shirogane lightheaded and malnourished concerned Keith far more than he would have liked. It was so unlike the senior to appear weak and exhausted, on his last thread. He had three, maybe four-day-old stubble peppered, his black hair disheveled and unkempt, his clothes mismatched and rumpled. It was a bit of a jarring sight, like seeing the Mona Lisa in a gas station bathroom.

            Taking him to lunch was a risky move, for both Keith and Shiro. Shiro might have seen it as an invitation inside and to become attached, and – if Hell froze over – Keith might let him.

            When they finished their food, Keith drove Shiro home.     

            “Aw, crap,” Shiro muttered as they pulled into the driveway.

            “What’s up?”

            “My car is still at the school,” Shiro said hesitantly.

            _Aw crap indeed,_ Keith cursed. But before his brain could shoot down any ideas, he found his lips blurting, “That’s fine. I’ll just drive you to school tomorrow morning.”

            Shiro shook his head, “Thanks, but I can’t ask you to pick me up.”

            “You live, like, two blocks away. Plus, you didn’t have to ask. That’s what an “offer” means.” Keith tried not to sound too pushy.

            “Tell you what,” Shiro opened the car door, got out, and leaned on the open window frame, “I’ll walk to your place and we can drive from there, yeah?”

             Keith swallowed thickly and nodded. “Alright. One-three-three Grey Drive, just down the road and two rights.”

            Shiro smiled warmly, “Got it. Thank you.”

            Before he walked away, he ducked down one more time. “Thank you for lunch, really. One of these days, I’ll pay you back.”

            _This is_ me _paying_ you _back, you idiot,_ Keith thought miserably. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. This was all wrong. “Anytime.” The worlds felt sour and oily in his mouth.

            Shiro smacked the door a couple of times, that stupid grin still hanging off of his face, and walked inside his house.

 

            When Keith’s alarm went off the next morning, he groaned and rolled over, shutting the infernal thing off. He sat up and slapped his cheeks, waking himself up enough to walk to the bathroom and run the shower. Brush teeth, shave, wash face, jump into the shower. Feeling the scalding hot water directly woke him up completely, his body flaring under his skin, alive and prickling. He lost track of time. He quickly dried off, dried his hair, get it out of the way in a lazy braid. The sleep was out of Keith’s eyes, but the early morning haze still waded around in his head.

            Uncle Val was already up in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove with a cigar in his mouth, frying bacon. Keith sauntered in with a towel around his shoulders. He plucked the cigar out of Val’s mouth, earning a grunt from the latter.

            “Don’t break your streak. Not in the house.”

            Val chuckled, his morning voice even more guttural and deep than usual. “I broke that streak weeks ago, boy. Give it here.”

            Keith shrugged and handed it back. “In that case…” He rifled through the junk drawer and retrieved his emergency pack. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it with his lighter, taking a long drag. “That hits the spot,” he said dreamily, blowing it out towards the open window.

            There was a knock at the door.

            Keith raised an eyebrow at Val, who just shrugged. “My booty calls don’t come around in the morning,” he said jokingly. “Maybe it’s the UPS truck or somethin’.”

            “At seven in the morning?” Keith groaned, walking towards the door. He pulled it open and froze.

            Takashi Shirogane stood on his front porch, looking uncomfortable and shy, but back to his old self. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, no bags under his eyes, cheeks flushed.

            “Morning,” Shiro said, but he made no advances to come inside, waiting patiently.

            “Morning,” Keith said, taking another inhale of smoke. “I have to be honest; I completely forgot I was driving you.”

            Shiro shifted on his feet uneasily. “Oh, I guess I should’ve…sent you a text to remind you or something.”

            “It’s no big deal,” Keith said, opening the door wider so Shiro could come inside. “You don’t have my number anyway.”

            Val peeked into the living room, then did a double take. “Who knew that the famous Champion would be in my house at the crack of dawn?” he said gruffly, impressed.

            Keith could have sworn Shiro blushed. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said politely. Val just grunted a laugh and walked back into the kitchen. Keith slung his towel over the arm of the couch.

            “I’ll go get my jacket and then we can bounce,” Keith said. He walked into his room, trying to ignore the thumping in his chest. Seeing Shiro in his living room was not only terrifying in of itself but borderline humiliating. He hated having people over, they had to see the run-down dump his mobile home was. The stained carpet, peeling wallpaper, molding ceiling. He put on his army jacket and grabbed his backpack. Walking back into the living room, he saw Shiro talking to Val again, them both smiling.

            “See you later,” Keith said to Val, opening the door and allowing Shiro to walk through before him.

            “’Kay,” was all he replied with.

            They walked down the long driveway together. Shiro was silent until they passed Keith’s bike. “I didn’t know you have a motorcycle,” he said, blowing out an impressed whistle. “How come you never drive this bad boy to school?”

            “It’s not a motorcycle," Keith gave a non-smiling chuckle, crushing his cigarette beneath his combat boot. "It’s a piece of junk with potential. Val and I are working on it together.”

            “Who’s Val?”

            “The guy you were talking to inside. A family friend…and my legal guardian.”

            “Oh, he adopted you?”

            “Yeah.” They slid into the car in sync. Shiro still looked at Keith like he was going to continue. Not an option.

            “Like I said,” Keith said with a set jaw, turning the engine over, “Hard pass.” He turned on the radio and they drove to school in silence.

 

            ********************************************************************

 

            The entire car ride, Shiro wondered where it went wrong, what he said exactly to upset Keith in the first place. But the more he thought about it, he began to understand that this was just who Keith was. A closed-off boy, who pushed people away before they could push him, who never smiled, even when he told a joke…and who takes near-strangers out to lunch when they were exhausted and starving and then offered to drive them to school the next morning…

            In fact, the more he thought about it, the more confused he became. Keith was like a Rubix Cube, nearly impossible to solve unless you knew the right strategy, and Shiro had no idea what his strategy was. Should he have a strategy at all? Every time he asked to learn anything about Keith, the kid pushed back and built another wall to keep him out.

            When they arrived at the school, Keith asked where Shiro’s car was.

            “Up at the front, in the senior parking.”

            They rolled up to his black and white mustang. “Thanks so much for this,” Shiro said, smiling slightly.

            Keith’s mouth turned up at the corners, but it wasn’t a smile. “No prob,” he murmured as Shiro got out of the car. He drove away and Shiro didn’t see him for the rest of the school day.

 

            After school, however, they have more janitorial services to complete. This time, they were in the back kitchen, washing pots and pans, sanitizing all of the trays, and bagging up leftover food to transport to the homeless shelter downtown. They both kept silent, only listening to the running water and the deafening sound of the sanitation station whirring in the back of the room. Lotor was in the cafeteria, filling out paperwork at one of the tables.

            For the first thirty minutes of work, Shiro wondered if he should say anything at all. It might relax the tension or make it a thousand times worse. Shiro tried to gauge how ballsy he felt that day.

            “Did I say something?” Shiro asked as soon as the whirring shut off and the station beeped its finality.

            Keith shoved another pot under the stream of hot water, only taking a moment to shoot a sideways glance at Shiro. “What?”

            “You’ve been quiet this whole time.”

            “So have you,” Keith pointed out, without looking up from his hands. “If you think about it, you’re behaving more out of character than I am.”

            Shiro didn’t know what to say to that, so he backtracked. “Seriously though, did I offend you?”

            “Why would you even think that?” Keith asked, annoyed.

            “I don’t know…” Shiro tried to remember the pinpoint moment when Keith shut down.

            “Because you keep asking about my parents or lack thereof?” finished Keith bitterly.

            “Listen, I only asked twice,” Shiro said defensively.

            “Once was enough. I don’t like it when people pry, alright? It’s rude.”

            “I wasn’t – ”

            “What? _Trying_ to be rude? I know, you never are.”

            Shiro stopped drying dishes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

            “When you’re told your entire life that you’re the nicest guy on God’s green Earth, I guess it’s hard to accept anything different.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “Born with a silver spoon in your mouth. _That’s_ what I’m talking about. You’re empathetic, I get it. You feel what other people are feeling.” Keith scrubs the pot furiously, refusing to make eye contact. “But I’m going to have to ask you to back off. I’m not a people person, and sure, silence is comfortable. I prefer it. I don’t know what bone you have to pick with not talking, but you better get used to it.”

            Shiro felt anger rush to his cheeks. “What did I ever do to you?”

            Keith stopped scrubbing and bore his eyes into Shiro. “Nothing. Just like everyone else. And that’s the way I’ve learned to live my life. Don’t change your mind now.”

            “You _made_ yourself invisible. You can’t get mad at me for that, Keith.”

            “I’m not mad at you!” Keith’s voice rose slightly as he backed up from the sink, glancing over at Lotor, who seemed unbothered. “I never have been. Do you _want_ me to be mad at you? Is that why you keep prying a reaction out of me? What’s your deal?”

            Shiro stopped short, his next prepared words caught in his throat. _Is_ that why he kept going all the time, asking Keith questions knowing full and well that he was crossing lines? Was he looking to punish himself for not seeing Keith all these years? He didn’t even realize how upset he still was about that until Keith said it out loud.

            “I…” Shiro knitted his brows together. “I’m mad at myself. For not…seeing you.”

            “You shouldn’t,” Keith said, throwing his towel on the counter. “No one else did, either. There’s a reason for that. You don’t need to kill yourself over it.”

            “I dunno, I guess it just still bothers me that I didn’t even know your name. I know _everyone’s_ name, or at least recognize their face.”

            Keith looked at Shiro once more, his eyes mournful. “You’ve already done more than enough to make up for it, Shirogane. Honest.”

            Shiro nodded, looking at the floor.

             “I don’t do well with people, and I don’t do well with friends. It doesn’t bother me and it shouldn’t bother you.”

            _But it does._ “Fine.”

            Keith didn’t say anything more and neither did Shiro. They worked in cold civility for the rest of the hour and parted ways at the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why but i feel like this chapter is lame and people aren't going to like it but ehhh NaNoWriMo is beating my carapace right now so this is what I have to give someone pls kILL ME 
> 
> \- Kaz


	11. Chapter Eleven

“Where is everybody?” Allura demanded, collapsing into a chair exasperatedly. Her patented perfect-school-bun was coming loose after a long day, flyaways framing her freshly washed face. She had changed into an old man’s collared shirt, her favorite pair of Mom Jeans, and pure white Keds, and looked utterly stunning regardless. However, with her face scrunched, her nose turned up in gall, and her arms crossed pouting, her natural beauty was countered with an aura of aggravation. 

“Hello to you, too.” Pidge smiled sarcastically. “Lance had to cancel because of impromptu swim meet, and Shiro hasn’t contacted either of us.”

That seemed to surprise Allura. She wriggled her phone out of her pocket and studied the lock screen, disappointed by the lack of new messages. She frowned and typed up a new text. “He didn’t text me either. Where could he be?”

It was apparent that she was getting herself wound up, so Hunk generously stepped in. “Hey, he’ll probably just be a few minutes late. No big deal, right?

It wasn’t convincing, because everyone at the table knew for a fact Shiro was never late, even if he tried. He was punctual by nature. So what happened was the real question

Allura shook her head and tucked her phone away. “It’s fine. If it was an emergency, he would’ve rang.”

Pidge nodded. “Exactly. So what’re we working on?”

That seemed to brighten the Brit. “Well, before we get to prom, we have to plan the Spring Fling dance, which is two months before prom.”

“Two dances in less than three months?” Pidge asked. “Isn’t that a bit of an overkill?”

Allura glared. “The students don’t seem to mind. And we have the funds, so we  _ are  _ doing it.”

“I just don’t see the point in spending all this money on  _ multiple  _ dances a year when the money can go to other things,” Pidge said, “Like the - ”

“Like the Astronomy Club?” Hunk and Allura said together.

Pidge flushed slightly and adjusted her glasses. “ _ And  _ other things. But...yes, the Astronomy Club could use some extra funding.”

“And I am in charge of taking care of raising that money. The Star-Gazing Gala later this fall will raise loads of money, I swear it,” Allura said. 

“Great,” Pidge grumbled. “Another dance.”

Allura checked her phone nervously once more. “I swear. If Shiro doesn’t show up in the next twenty minutes, I am going to be absolutely livid.”

Pidge rolled her pencil between her two hands, thinking hard. “You know, he might just have his janitorial services with Keith again, and forgot about it.”

“And failed to tell me?” The idea didn’t sit well with Allura. “That isn’t like him.”

“Well,” Hunk said hesitantly. “He hasn’t seemed like himself for a while now. I noticed that. Did anyone notice that? Please tell me I’m not the only one.”

Allura frowned. “Ever since he got caught up with Keith Kogane, everything he has been doing has been extremely out of character. Maybe that boy is a bad influence on Shiro.”

“Yeah maybe,” Pidge agreed, “But do you honestly think Keith would have that much of an impact on Shiro? I mean, he’s known for his iron will.”

“I don’t want to think that, but how else can you explain it? The old Shiro would never stand us up without at least telling us.”

“Uh, guys?” Hunk said nervously. “How about we not talk about Shiro like he’s been replaced with an evil clone? I mean, with everything the poor guy has to deal with on a daily basis, I’m surprised he goes out of his way to make time for his friends at all. Think about it. Has he ever stood us up before?”

Pidge and Allura shake their heads.

“Then we shouldn’t get upset at all, especially not at  _ him.  _ The guy is practically a saint, we shouldn’t be so quick to turn on him.”

Allura instantly felt ashamed. “You’re right. I’m just overthinking everything far too much.”

“Me, too,” Pidge said. Then she chuckled as her phone screen lit up. Picking it up she said, “Shiro just texted. He says he’s sorry for bailing but the chewed up gum underneath the desks doesn’t clean itself.”

Allura pouted. “How come he texted you and not me?”

“Allura,” Hunk said, “Overthinking?”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Right. Now, about this Spring Fling.”

“Still pointless.”

“Still not up to you.”

 

 

*****************************************

 

“God, this is disgusting,” Shiro groaned, dropping more hardened and discolored bubble gum into his bucket.

“It’s not that bad,” Keith said sarcastically from beside him, “It builds character.”

“Y’know, you’d think at a school with stuck-up preps, cleanliness would be on their general agenda.”

“‘Stuck-up preps’? Harsh words coming from their leader.”

Shiro sputtered with his spatula. “W-what? I am not!”

“If Lotor wasn’t such a tyrant, you’d practically run this school.”

“I’m glad you think I have that much influence but - ”

“Because you do, Golden Boy. With a smile like that, you could get anyone to do anything.”

“Even you?”

Keith shrugged, his cheeks pinking. “I wouldn’t put it past you, but you haven’t tried yet, so don’t push your luck.”

“You make me sound like an evil villain.” Then Shiro self-consciously hit his mouth with a gloved hand. “What’s wrong with my smile?”

“Nothing,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “That’s my point.”

“How come your flattery is so insulting?” Shiro chuckled. 

“It’s not. My insults, however, are quite flattering. There’s a difference.”

“Your amusement bewilders me.”

“And your bewilderment amuses me.”

Banter like this was becoming more and more common in their service work, especially when Keith arrived in an uncharacteristically playful mood. Shiro felt that, somehow, he was getting to know Keith but at the same time, not knowing the first thing about the boy or his personality. On this particular day that consisted of rock-hard chewing gum and the horrendous smell of Goo-Gone plaguing the air, Keith came with an air of openness that Shiro was unprepared for. He was even wearing more normal clothes: baggy jeans, a beanie over his black shaggy hair, a graphic tee and a red cardigan to cover it, the sleeves slightly longer than his arms. 

“Oh, shoot!” Shiro exclaimed, pulling out his phone.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shiro grumbled, sending off an apologetic text. “I just remembered that Allura wanted the gang to meet up with her today, and I completely forgot to tell her I was booked.”

“The gang?” Keith repeated.

“Yeah, you know. Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Lance, and me.”

“Oh yeah...Lance.” 

Shiro had to laugh at Keith’s expression. “You two have quite the rivalry going on. What’s the story behind that?”

“I don’t even know,” Keith groaned. “One day, he decided I didn’t like him, and because of that delusion, he doesn’t like me. And because of  _ that,  _ I don’t like him because he’s always pestering me about how much he doesn’t like me. It’s a cycle, really.”

“Lance is a lot,” Shiro admitted. “But he’s a good kid, and deals with a lot at home, too.”

“Home? What’s wrong with home?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. Lance’s entire extended family came to America from Cuba about seven years ago. He’s the youngest of four boys, but has three little sisters as well. His mom does her best to provide for everyone, but everyone has to chip in to pay bills. Lance is a really hard-worker and a lot more mature than people think he is.”

“That sounds rough, but it makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Keith rubbed his thumb and forefinger together thoughtfully. “Lance loves being in the spotlight, even if it means being a total jackass and making a complete fool of himself. He doesn’t get a lot of attention at home, I imagine. He’s competitive, too, which probably stems from the fact that he’s the youngest boy in the family. He feels like he’s got something to prove.”

Shiro stared at him. “You seem to have thought this through.”

“My dad always told me I have the makings to be a criminal profiler,” Keith said. “I just pay attention.”

The words resonated through Shiro. That was the first time Keith had ever directly mentioned his father, and in past tense, too. Not good. 

“Have you profiled all of my friends?” Shiro joked.

“Pretty much.”

“Oh.”

“All I do at this school is stay out of the way.” Keith stood and arched his back into a stretch. “It saves time but it’s incredibly dull. If I didn’t pay attention to people, I’d die of boredom.”

Shiro smirked. “What, your studies aren’t stimulating enough for you?”

“They really aren’t. I try, but I never have to push myself very hard. So I people-watch.”

“Ever get caught?”

“No. According to ninety percent of this school, I didn’t exist before you caught me spray painting.”

Shiro looked down, his cheeks hot. “Right. How do you manage that? Not being seen, I mean?”

Keith sat cross-legged and fiddled with the buttons on his cardigan. “I’m nothing remarkable. I come to school on time, and leave as soon as it’s over. I avoid people, thus avoiding attention.” His voice was monotone, as if he was reading a passage from a book.

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Shiro asked quietly, surprised at the teariness of his voice.

Keith was silent for a moment, and when Shiro looked at him, he had a strange look in his eyes. Endearment.

“No,” he said. “Not anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally writing more! Class is over until a week into January, so expect more updates to come! I hope you enjoyed this installment. Comments are appreciated!!
> 
> I got my annual hair cut and it's basically a curly version of Shiro's hair. So now me, my pal Ollie, and my brother are wanting to do a Shiro + Keith + Lance cosplay because we all look the part and I'm so ready I could cry. 
> 
> \- Kaz


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Allura have an interesting lunch period, and Shiro questions his relationship with Allura

Shiro could sense the difference in Keith’s attitude, Keith noticed. Shiro began to pry less, never asking personal questions, and thankfully respecting Keith’s silence. Keith should have recognized his intentions sooner, but once Shiro started to give him space, Keith started saying things that he would’ve never revealed if he had kept his guard up. He still couldn’t  bring himself to smile around him, but there was something about Shiro that left the boy spellbound. His Golden Boy aura was something that Keith never thought could influence him. 

But after a few days, Keith realized Shiro wasn’t the “stuck-up prep” that he assumed he was. Sure, he was likeable and kind and a little too polite, but there were some things about him that surprised Keith. Like how he was the master of petty acts that no one would notice from afar, and how he giggled like a chipmunk if he accidentally let an innuendo slip. He was obsessed with musicals (there was a serious limit to how often a single person could listen to _Moulin Rouge!)_ and complained constantly about the pairs' jobs when he was feeling chatty. All these things left Keith yearning for more little nuggets of secret personality that Shiro had.

Keith wanted to pull these surprise traits right out of Takashi Shirogane, but the only way to get to them was to talk. So Keith talked. 

Whenever they struck up conversation, Keith heard the names of “the gang” brought up constantly. It was obvious that Shiro cared a great deal about these people. Keith had watched their group from adar for years, always thinking that they were these elite, A-List-like celebrities. But the more stories Shiro told, the more Keith realized that they were just a pack of goofballs.

Allura’s persona confused Keith the most, though. She was always always put together, always on time; perfectly kind, perfectly smart, perfect, perfect, perfect. And she was dating the most perfect boy in school, and had been since the eighth grade. She handled her workload like a champ and never fell behind in her studies. She went above and beyond in all of her duties. No one was that flawless. It wasn’t until Keith had a chance to talk to her that he began to see the chips in her foundation.

She found him at lunch. That was strange because so far, no one had been able to find his secret lunch spot. Not even Shiro. Not that he asked.

Allura poked her head inside of the out-of-order utility closet. “I had a feeling you would be here.”

Keith looked up at her from the ground. “That sounds ominous.”

She walked in and closed the door behind her. She had her hair in an elaborate braid that reached the middle of her spine, with a pink romper that complimented the brown of her skin. “I didn’t mean it to be. Do you mind if I eat here?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She sat on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, folding like a contortionist. She began to nibble on her lunch wrap. God, she even chewed like a celebrity.

“Am I in trouble?” Keith asked, setting his sandwich down. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

Allura laughed. It was a too-sweet mix of a fairy princess and warrior goddess, giddy with an air of patience and grace. “No, not at all. I just...thought it would be nice to meet you officially. Shiro speaks so highly of you.”

Keith shifted uncomfortably. “I doubt that.”

“Honest. I mean, I thought I should get to know you now that you and Shiro spend so much time together.”

“Look, if you’re mad about the whole spray paint thing, I - ”

“Keith,” she reassured, “That’s not why I’m here.”

Keith tried to relax, taking a silent breath. “Okay. Well. Hi, I’m Keith.”

Allura laughed again, because apparently Keith was hilarious. “Pleasure. I’m Allura.”

Keith nodded, feeling unspeakably awkward. “What happens now?”

“I’m not sure,” Allura admitted. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Oh, good. Are you going to be graduating this year with Shiro and I?”

Keith shook his head. “No, I just turned seventeen in October. I still have another year.”

“Oh,” Allura feigned disappointment. “So...how are you enjoying your required time with Shiro?”

Keith wasn’t sure what to say. The work was miserable but not too difficult, unless Lotor had time on his hands to breathe down their necks. He wished he didn’t have to do service instead of heading straight home like he was used to. But then there was Shiro. He kept Keith company, regardless of if Keith wanted it or not. But he was good for Keith. He got him used to talking and eye contact and actually  _ wanting  _ to smile. Those things never came easily for Keith.

“It’s okay,” was all he said.

Allura furrowed her brow. “Are you always this chatty with Shiro? From his perspective, you two seem to talk a lot.”

“It passes the time.” The air in the closet seemed hot, and Keith felt his shirt sticking to his back. The room never seemed like that before.

“For Shiro, it seems to be more than that.”

“What, are you jealous?”

Allura didn’t even flinch. “Should I be?”

Jesus, where was this conversation even going? And all the while, Allura sat there with a pleasant, non-threatening look on her face, while her words cut like blades. 

“I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m not a charity case, and I’m not trying to drive a wedge between you and your boyfriend. I’m serving out my punishment just like he is, so what if he’s having a good time? That’s not my fault.”

“That’s not what I was suggesting,” Allura said, in a way that most definitely confirmed that that’s exactly what she was suggesting. “I just thought I would get to know Shiro’s new friend.”

“Shiro and I are not friends.” It sounded fake just saying it out loud.

Allura raised her eyebrows incredulously and began to pack up her lunch. “You might want to tell  _ him  _ that.”

Keith pushed out a stone-faced chuckle. “You and I both know that Shiro doesn’t take no for an answer when it comes to his friends.”

“You _ don’t _ know him,” Allura said, standing finally. “Don’t think that you do.”

“What did I ever do to you?” Keith asked, his voice low. “Am I a threat to Shiro’s future or something?”

For the first time, Allura’s face hardened completely, and Keith could tell he hit a nerve. “I care a great deal about the people I choose to spend my time with. I don’t...I don’t want to see any of them get hurt.”

Keith swallowed dryly. He had already spent weeks attempting to bury the guilt he already felt for compromising Shiro’s college/career plans, and in a simple sentence, Allura managed to unearth it. “I...don’t want to see them get hurt, either. A-and I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Allura nodded sternly, as if she got the confession she was digging for. Then she turned and left the utility closet, closing the door silently behind her.

Keith slumped back against the wall, letting his black hair fall over his eyes.  _ This  _ was exactly the reason why he didn’t do “people”.

 

 

***********************************

 

“I had an interesting conversation with Keith the day before last,” Allura announced. Shiro nearly swerved off of the road, the words startled him so much.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Shiro said hesitantly. “How’d that go?”

“I’m not sure how to say this,” she said.  _ Uh-oh.  _ “But I don’t think he’s the person you think he is.”

“And what kind of person do I think he is?”

“A better person than he lets on.”

Shiro looked at her (perhaps for a little too long, with the steering wheel being in his hands and all), worry creasing between his brows. “Why do you say that?”

“He...he lashes out, like a wild animal. I don’t think he has many friends.”

Shiro chuckled dryly. “I could’ve told you that. That’s just how he is.”

Allura glared at him. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, I think I have to be. But he’s not like that on the inside, I can promise you that. What did you say to him?” The question came out slightly more accusing than Shiro would have liked, but there was no backing out now.

“We talked a little bit, mostly about you. But then...he got protective.”

A small smile crept across Shiro’s mouth. “Of me?”

“Don’t sound so pleased, and yes, of you. But he’s not of fond of you as you think. He doesn’t seem to believe the two of you are friends.”

The words, though ringing truth, still cut like a dull knife. Shiro nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah, I’d imagine he’d say that.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Look, Keith is my friend. That doesn’t mean he considers me one of his. He’s your stereotypically lone-wolf kind of guy, and doesn’t play well with others. He tolerates me, which is better than disliking me, which is better than him loathing me. He’s a work in progress, and I think I’m slowly thawing him out.”

“You talk about it like he’s a prison you’re trying to infiltrate. Friendship doesn’t work like that.”

Shiro gripped the steering wheel a little too hard. “Keith does. What are you so worried about?”

“I’m not  _ worried,”  _ she said defensively. Shiro slowed his car to a crawl and drove into her apartment complex parking lot. He put the car into park and turned to her.

“Allura, what is this about?”

Her eyes were shiny now, and Shiro’s heart leapt into his throat. “He  _ ruined  _ you,” she whispered, with a tone of grief he had never heard before.

“H-how?” he asked quickly, taking her hands in his. 

“Your entire life, gone because of his impulsiveness.” She shook her head and dabbed at her tears. “How are you so forgiving? Why did you save him?”

_ Because he deserved to be saved,  _ Shiro wanted to say.  _ He still does.  _ “It was the right thing to do.”

“You’re so mighty,” Allura said sarcastically, her words like acid in Shiro’s mouth. “You always do the honorable and want to do the right thing for other people, no matter what happens to you in the end.”

“Why is that a bad thing? Loyalty is a sin?” He was clinging to sanity at this point.

Allura looked away from him and pressed her hands into her lap, leaving Shiro’s hands cold and empty. 

“There’s a line where righteousness and recklessness meet, Shiro. And you’re teetering on the line.” She popped her car door and stormed off.

Shiro opened his own door and jogged after her. “Allura, please!” he called. It was dark out, nearly midnight. The street lights illuminated the ground with flickering yellow. She didn’t slow down until she stopped in front of her red door, turning back to him with drying tears on her cheeks. 

“When...” Shiro tried to catch his breath. Not from running, no, but from the creeping panic that threatened to seize his chest and hold hostage.  _ Fix this.  _ “When did this conversation go wrong? What did I do?”

Allura looked at him as if he was asking her to explain the alphabet. “You didn’t do anything, Shiro. That’s the problem. You let people walk all over you to protect them. Protect yourself. You get...you get hurt so often, and it breaks me.”

“And you think Keith is one of those people? You think he’s hurting me?”

“I have nothing against your bond with him, Shiro. But he is responsible for your life going up in smoke. Why aren’t you upset?”

“Allura,” Shiro tried to keep his voice at normal level. He had this conversation in his head so many times, he thought he was going insane. How many more times was he going to have to explain in simple terms? In words that the others would understand? 

“Allura,” he said again, taking her face in his hands gently. “I am more than my future. Who I am as a person isn’t determined by my career. Right?” He was pleading now.  _ Say yes. Say yes.  _

Allura grasped his hands, still cradling her jaw, and sighed helplessly. “Of  _ course.  _ Shiro, I just...” She looked down and swallowed thickly as Shiro wiped a tear with his thumb, a gesture he’s made too many times in his life. “I just want you to think for yourself.”

Shiro let his hands fall. “Do you? Because every time we have this conversation, it seems like you’re too caught up in the fact that I’m not going to  _ your  _ dream college and living out  _ your  _ future for us.”

Allura looked like she had been slapped. “We had that dream  _ together,  _ you know that. I in no way bulldozed you.”

“You didn’t then, but you are now.” Shiro hated speaking his mind. It did nothing but bring pain and hurt to everyone listening. “Allura, I love you. So much. But how much longer is this going to go on?”

She was silent for a moment, looking at him with nothing but pure fear and sadness in her eyes. “Us?”

Shiro realized the error in his words. “God, no. The passive aggressive bickering that you’ve been seeping out these past weeks. Are we ever going to get over this?”

Allura and Shiro seemed perfect together. They  _ were  _ perfect together. But the funny thing about a solid foundation is how often you find cracks. Hairline, maybe, but chips all the same. Sealing them over held them together, sure, but for how long? Sometimes Shiro was reminded that couples often stayed together because that’s all they ever knew, tregging on from their sheer momentum. He didn’t want this future. A future of arguments that hardly skimmed the surface, constantly trying to cover up all the flaws in their foundation. He wanted Allura to understand him. The real Takashi Shirogane. 

But he also wanted Allura. She was his first everything. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. She had been with him through everything, and he had been with her through the worst period of her life. There was no way they could just forget all of that, was there? He couldn’t lose her. Not now.

Allura leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, once again sealing the plaster over the crack. “I don’t want to keep being angry about this,” she said quietly.

He nudged her forehead with his nose. “Then don’t,” he said, barely whispering. 

She had her back against the door now, running her fingertips under the hem of his shirt, hardly grazing the skin of his hips. It sent electric shocks up his spine and warmed his chest. He pulled her closer, until there wasn’t a single breath of space between them. He could feel the knot in his stomach slowly unwinding, pouring out of his mouth, unraveling like a ball of yarn. Yet there was another tensing in his body, like a bow, drawn taut, the moment before the release of its arrow. He could feel it stretching as Allura dragged her nails across the skin of his back, a yearning for repair beyond anything he could fully comprehend.  _ Heal her.  _

_ Heal me.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm challenging myself to complete a chapter every day for the rest of the week, how great would THAT be, folks? Let's see if my stupid brain will allow this to happen. (Literally, my mother asked me what I did today, and I had zero recollection of the tasks I completed. I still don't remember. Y'all, this is the human embodiment of derealization.)
> 
> Stay woke, guys, gals, and non-binary pals. 
> 
> \- Kaz


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